...breadcrumbs...

porous heart
reached to longings end
spreads itself like hot iron press
along its own drawn out trail

each mark leading to the next
each harder and deeper than the last
each not of the other
despite a pattern
despite a direction known

if one
just once
had spelled the fortune that the step by step tide and its no ebb had wrought
how then would it be found

so tossed
so misplaced

do not be alarmed as the shade crawls in
that's just wait
folding in on the weight of the two of us
not standing here

the only monster in these parts
is the line
not crooked
not broken
neither whole nor arrow

filled with that which angers hunger
stretching out
feeding its leaks

-05